


Hands

by TheEmcee



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Complete, Confessions, Fetish, Hand Fetish?, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Slash, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmcee/pseuds/TheEmcee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitsunari is fascinated by Ieyasu’s hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> A/N: I just started playing Sengoku Basara 3 and I am positively obsessed with it! It’s just so much fun! And I had – had – to write something. Naturally, being a lover of yaoi, it’s, well, yaoi, so consider yourself warned. Please let me know if you see any mistakes; I will correct them! Also, feel free to leave a comment in the towel section below! R&R. Enjoy!

~…~  
Hands  
~…~

 

Ieyasu had large, strong hands. 

Mitsunari often found himself looking at them, a strange fascination taking hold of him. It was unshakable and he didn’t even realize what he had been doing until Ieyasu would wave one of his hands in front of his face in order to get his attention. With cheeks flushed from embarrassment and a scowl on his face, Mitsunari would glare and snap at him, his words sharp on his tongue despite being so shamefully caught. Of course, that only made Ieyasu laughed – he always seemed to find amusement in almost anything. 

Although Ieyasu didn’t know at the time what had captured Mitsunari’s attention, he eventually caught on. Though he was loath to admit it Ieyasu was not a fool and Mitsunari was found out all too soon.

It was during a celebration of some sort – Mitsunari doesn’t recall it very well, but he does know that there was alcohol and a lot of loud, raucous chatter and laughter. As usual, Mitsunari kept his distance from the party, from the disruptive noise, and polished his armor, which was immaculate and already clean. He just wanted an excuse to stay away from the drunkards and buffoons. 

That didn’t stop Ieyasu.

No matter where Mitsunari was or what he was doing, Ieyasu always managed to find him. It was as though they shared an unbreakable connection, a bond as Ieyasu often called it, that urged them to seek each other out even if they had no real reason for doing so. And that night, it was just as it always was: Ieyasu found Mitsunari alone, a deep frown on his face as he continued polishing.

“Mitsunari! I thought I might find you here,” Ieyasu greeted him as he wandered up the hill from the camp where everyone else was. 

“Tch,” was all Mitsunari said in reply. He wasn’t in a foul mood per se and the noise from the party hadn’t become too unbearable yet, but he saw no need to respond. 

“Mind if I join you? I’m afraid that our comrades are in far too high of spirits and I do not want to be among them should a fight break out,” Ieyasu said.

“What do I care? You do as you please anyway,” Mitsunari mumbled. He felt Ieyasu sit down beside him, his body a bit too close than what would be considered normal. He could feel the larger man’s body heat radiate from him and it stirred something inside of him, as was often the case when Ieyasu was near him.

Ieyasu’s voice barely registered as Mitsunari’s eyes went straight to his hands. They were wrapped in bandages and some blood had managed to seep through, staining the otherwise clean, white bandages red. Even though they were bloodied and more than likely bruised, they still looked like strong hands, like they could stop anything.

And they were coming closer, towards his face. Mitsunari jerked back and looked at Ieyasu, who was smiling warmly at him, his expression tender and sincere. It was not a look the silver haired man had seen on his face before and it caused his stomach to twist into tight knots. 

“Mitsunari, you…you like my hands…don’t you?” Ieyasu asked him. Mitsunari’s mind went blank, his eyes widened, and those hands, they got closer.

“N-No! Of course not! Why would you even-?!” Mitsunari hissed out, eyes narrowed dangerously. And then, there was a warm pressure on his face. Ieyasu’s hands were cupping his pale face, turning it so that they were looking at each other properly. His hands…they held him so gently. It was quite a contrast to the damage that those hands could do.

“This is not the first time I’ve caught you staring at them. And I’ve noticed that it’s only mine that you gaze at. So, what fascinates you so?” Ieyasu asked him, his eyes as warm and as welcoming at one of the many camp fires down below them. 

Mitsunari remained silent, his face feeling as hot as the sun, as he tried to think of a decent enough reason to excuse his behavior. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of one and the silence that felt upon them was stifling. So wrapped up in trying to find a reason for his staring was he that he didn’t realize that one of Ieyasu’s thumbs was inching closer to his mouth, not until it pressed softly against his lips that is.

“I’ve often wondered,” Ieyasu said softly, licking his lips as his eyes gazed on the thumb pressing against Mitsunari’s lips, “if your lips felt as soft as they looked.”

“And?” Mitsunari barely managed out, his voice a low whisper. He surprised even himself at his response and Ieyasu’s smile softened even more.

“They feel heavenly against my thumb,” Ieyasu told him. “However, I’m still not satisfied.”

Mitsunari was hardly able to get out the ‘You never are’ in reply before Ieyasu’s lips were pressed against his own in a kiss. The kiss, their first, his first, ignited something inside of him, something that was both dangerous and alluring. He wasn’t sure what it was, but Mitsunari found himself wanting more of it. 

A soft gasp escaped him as Ieyasu’s tongue pressed against his lips, gently seeking admittance while his hands caressed his sides soothingly, as though he were afraid that Mitsunari would bolt. He didn’t though; instead, he hesitantly opened his mouth and allowed Ieyasu inside. Not sure of what to do, he gently pushed and prodded Ieyasu’s tongue with his own when it entered his mouth. His stomach felt like a bundle of nerves, his fingertips were tingling, his toes were curling, and his body felt both hot and cold from the kiss. Mitsunari feared he would have collapsed had Ieyasu’s hands not been holding him, having traveled from his sides to his back to hold his body against Ieyasu’s.

When the finally broke the kiss after the need for air become too great, Mitsunari found himself panting softly, his face flushed and his body pressed tightly against Ieyasu’s, his hands trapped between their chests. Ieyasu looked flushed as well, but pleased and happy nonetheless. The look he was giving Mitsunari embarrassed him; never before had anyone bestowed upon him such a look and although part of him wanted to scold Ieyasu for directing such affection towards him and not their lord, another part of him enjoyed the attention, the obvious affection Ieyasu had for him. 

“Well, that answered my question,” Ieyasu said, breaking the silence, a soft peel of laughter following his words. Mitsunari scowled, his face still flushed.

“Did it answer any more questions you may have as well?” he retorted. 

It was only then that he realized that he was still being held against Ieyasu’s body. Ieyasu’s body was hard and warm against his own, his heat pouring into Mitsunari and his hands began traveling up and down his back. Shivers ran down his spine and Ieyasu pulled him closer. He was practically sitting in his lap and that thought only served to embarrass him further.

“What it the meaning of this? Why do you hold me so?” Mitsunari grumbled, his voice maintaining only half of its usual bite.

“Because I want to. Mitsunari, I care for you more than I care for any other and I wish to strengthen our bond,” Ieyasu told him, his face and voice serious but full of passion and conviction. He had thought about this and he was certain of his feelings. 

Mitsunari had no idea what to say. What could he say? He had never before been presented with such a confession. Who would want to care for a man such as he? He was no lord, no great man deserving of such devotion or passion. And yet, here was Ieyasu, holding him as though he might try to flee, with eyes alight with the fires of passion and something else, something Mitsunari was not quite familiar with. 

“Mitsunari, please,” Ieyasu said and kissed his lips softly. 

Mitsunari’s heart was pounding in his ears as those devilish hands began caressing his again, leaving a trail of flames and trembles in their wake with every stroke. He was fighting a losing battle, he knew. How could one fight this…this strange, unnamed force that he was feeling? It was quickly taking hold of him and its grip was strong, unyielding, unbreakable. Mitsunari looked into Ieyasu’s eyes and he was a goner.

He found himself surrendering to Ieyasu’s strong hands, his lips, his voice, everything that he was. Before he even realize it, he was drowning in the fire that Ieyasu had ignited within him and that splendid light that always seemed to follow the larger man around enveloped him now too. It was both frightening and exciting; it lit his body on fire while also making his blood run cold. Pain mixed with pleasure and before he knew it, Mitsunari was seeing a white light as he cried out in passion.

Afterwards, when it was all said and down, Mitsunari felt Ieyasu’s hands running all over his bare body. Over his thighs, his sides, his arms, his back, his stomach, his chest…anywhere they could reach, they went. It was almost as though Ieyasu was committing his body to memory and that thought alone sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Lips pressed kisses to his shoulders and neck and before Mitsunari knew what he was doing, he took hold of one of Ieyasu’s large hands, still wrapped in its bandage, and brought it to his lips. 

Mitsunari kissed each knuckle and he huffed a laugh at how warm the hand was; so typically Ieyasu. He heard Ieyasu’s shudder, felt it as well with their bodies pressed together so closely. His body seemed to be possessed, his actions were not his own and his instincts took over as he grabbed the remaining hand and gave it the same treatment. It took both of his hands to hold just one of Ieyasu’s and he paused, studying the differences. Compared to Ieyasu’s hands, his were small, dainty even, and appeared weak, frail. And unlike Ieyasu’s, there were no battle scars on his own, no bruises or cuts that still seeped blood. If anything, Mitsunari’s hands seemed more effeminate, especially in contrast to Ieyasu’s. 

“Mitsunari,” Ieyasu moaned and pulled him into a passionate kiss. 

Ieyasu was hard and ready against him and feeling the other man’s desire so obviously against his body brought Mitsunari’s back to life as well. Those hands were upon him again, touching him in places he had never dared to dream they would go and he lost himself in them once again, drowning in the most pleasant of ways and all because of those hands. Such strong hands Ieyasu possessed…


End file.
